


Berühre alte Wunden nicht (don't touch old wounds)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Ad Astra per Aspera [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Injury, Dork Lovers Server Challenge, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pre-Canon, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 22:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18303413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Brian learns the hard way about hunters.





	Berühre alte Wunden nicht (don't touch old wounds)

**Author's Note:**

> A challenge and an addition to the supernatural au? Truly inspired. Also it is a little more graphic than what I usually write, but nothing too terrible, please keep that in mind before reading!  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Brian stumbles through the back door. His parents won’t be back until late tonight. A fact is his immeasurably grateful for. He shuffles towards the bathroom; his shirt is sticking to his back and his hip stings with every step. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if it's because of the silver or the fact that a part of the arrow remains.

He yanks off his shirt, whining as his back tugs, the blue fabric is stained beyond salvation. Brian balls it up and tosses it into the sink. Better the shirt that a towel. The missing shirt will be easier to explain away.

Dad had warned him to remain inside for his shift. _Don’t go to the woods_ he had said. If he hadn’t, Brian would have been the only one missing, and he’s already an outsider within his friend group. God, they had been lucky.

The pain in his hip makes him doubt how lucky he feels. Brian slides the jeans down, slowly. Hissing as there’s a sharp tug on the shaft. He turns on the warm water and soaks his shirt. At least the bleeding has started to slow.

He grabs the hand towel and drapes it over his shoulder before running his shirt over the injury. The contact burns, and the cloth snags on part of the shaft over a less gentle pass-over. It tugs. A yelp echoes off the tile of the bathroom. Blood starts flowing again, and belatedly he realizes the remainder of the shaft has broken.

Did he do more damage to the arrow than it did to him? He doesn’t remember much, the panic and animal brain cloud over each other. All he can recall is fear and pain and the shadowy trees. But now that he doesn’t have the shaft, he doesn’t have a firm gripping point…

Which means…

Brian coughs bile into the sink. Maybe he should have someone help. But they would insist on telling his parents, and he just convinced them to let him move out for university.

Instead, he shoves the towel into his mouth. His fingernails grow into claws (which also hurts, his body is running on empty). He inhales and moves to tug the arrowhead out. Brian screams into the towel. His fingers itch with the contact of silver, but after a torturously long time (realistically 30 seconds) he succeeds.

The towel falls out of his mouth and he slumps backward only to yelp when he remembers the injury. Brian whimpers. A few minutes after he catches his breath, he twists to peer at his back.

There’s a thin line under his shoulder stark red against his pale skin, and it throbs at its discovery.

Brian glances at the shower. That’s going to hurt, but the wounds will get clean without evidence. He turns the knob so that it's lukewarm. While the water warms up, he rubs the drops of blood away from the wall and floor. Then he steps under the spray.

Again it stings and he wants to curl away from it, but he waits until the water runs mostly clear. Once he turns off the water, the wounds ache less. He knows that the silver-taint is going to make healing slow. A week at a minimum. He pulls out the just-in-case gauze and taps it over his hip. There’s nothing he can do about the shoulder.

He tosses the shirt in the trash and then takes the trash to the bins outside.

Brian slides into a soft t-shirt and flannel pants, and when he greets his parents, they’re none the wiser of the pain he’s in.

* * *

“I thought lykans didn’t scar?”

Brian turns with a frown. Roger is laying upside down on his bed, watching his back with interest. The shirt is still looped around his arms.

“We don’t?”

Roger purses his lips, “your shoulder?”

_Ah._ Brian forgot that it scared. He remembers everything from that night and thinking about it, his hip has also scarred. He pulls the shirt down before replying.

“ _Hunting_ accident my last year of secondary school.”

He watches Roger’s eyes flash and his mouth drops, “wait, do you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Even in a lykan designated township?”

Brian tilts his head. Roger seems genuinely surprised. He supposes it might be odd for him, vampires in their townships aren’t bothered, or hunted.

“Of course,” he shrugs. It’s hard to keep in the bitter remark of it being a stocked hunting ground.

“Then it was silver?”

Roger stands and trails a finger exactly where the scar is now hidden by the shirt.

“They edge arrowheads in it. I’m just lucky that silver bullets weren’t in the weapon of choice again.”

“Your parents must have been scared to death.”  
“Actually,” Brian leans into the touch, “you’re the first to find out.”

Roger wraps his arms around his waist. Brian feels his chin digging into his spine, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Brian cocks his head, “you weren’t the one that did this.”

“No,” he feels Roger’s head shake, “I’m sorry that you couldn’t tell anyone. That you were afraid.”

Brian shrugs and hunches over, his hands hovering above Roger’s, “I have you now, to tell.”

He wonders if he really will.

“Damn straight,” Roger chuckles, “always.”

They’re silent for a few minutes. Roger wiggling around his body so that they’re chest to chest. Brian rolls his eyes at Roger’s antics.

“We need to get ready.”

Roger shakes his head.

“Freddie is going to be mad if we’re late.”

“Freddie is going to be late.”

Brian fights (weakly) to free himself from Roger’s vice but settles after a few minutes. He rumbles in contentment and Roger beams at him.

“There we go!”

Roger jumps back from him and continues getting ready. Brian watches him in confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> As always leave your thoughts and comments below, or come talk to me on tumblr.  
> Hopefully this clears up any confusion about why Brian is so hyper-aware of hunters, beyond more obvious reasons.


End file.
